The Most Important Meal of the Day
by sissyHIYAH
Summary: Seifer eats breakfast. Quistis tries to not kill him.


"This shit is disgusting."

He had milk on his chin. Quistis thought the resemblance to Zell was uncanny, but decided to move on without mentioning that fact. She had just cleaned her kitchen, and while it was tiny and easy to maintain, there was no reason to see what would happen to the paint when Seifer threw his bowl of cereal against the wall.

"It's good for you. 14 vitamins and minerals, says so right on the box."

It did in fact say that on the box, in perfectly practical shades of gold, right next to the perfectly pastoral image of a field at sunset, a clear indication of perfectly preserved grains from an organic source.

Seifer had a rather tasteless weapons magazine open in his lap, not because he liked the buxom gun girl pumping a shotgun on page 47, but because he was worried that breakfast might fall in his lap.

"Do you always believe everything you read?"

Quistis shook her newspaper. His crunching seemed to be timed to fall on every second syllable of every third sentence. Not that she was counting, of course. She wouldn't dream of permitting him that intrusion into her sacred morning ritual.

"Those that govern food and nutrition keep tight regulations on what is allowed to be posted on..."

The spoon rattled on the sides of the bowl.

Then the slurping started.

"Mhm. They're also the same ones that said guardian forces didn't eat your memory."

The slurping...

Oh god, the slurping...

Her teeth were not on edge. Her enamel was not going to be cracked by the time she was 35 because she was the picture of poise and calm. That grinding was surely coming from the refrigerator. Definitely not her teeth.

"That...was an entirely different government organization!"

The slurping continued, which made no sense at all because he hadn't poured that much milk into his bowl. Not that she had watched him pour the milk or anything like that. Not that she was observing him to see if he actually paid attention to suggested serving sizes.

"Oh yeah, entirely different. Different because they only work on Tuesdays."

"That is not what I meant!"

Seifer peered into the box and jiggled the contents, then poured a handful of crisped oats into his palm.

"Does this look like a hair to you?"

"No. Not at all."

"Hm. No, I guess you're right. Looks more like it was torn from a praying mantis or an albatross or something. I think it's still twitching."

He crammed the cereal into his mouth and took a swig of milk from the carton. The resulting sounds were something they repeated in the playlist in Hell, she just knew it. Quistis resolved to be a better person so that she could avoid that guttural half of the afterlife. In Heaven the souls would eat soundlessly. Or at least they would only eat marshmallows. Maybe cotton candy. Something that made no noise. Dear sweet Hyne and all his nubile disciples, please let there be only soft food in Heaven.

"That's disgusting."

"That's what I just said."

"Then why are you eating it?"

Why was he smiling? It was just cereal. There was no reason for _that _smile to be plastered on _that_ face.

"I wouldn't have to eat it if you'd get in the kitchen and do your womanly duties, bake me a...OW!"

Seifer never saw the box move, but he felt it on his forehead. If she left the mark of "organically farmed and delicious" on his skin in addition to that damned scar, there would be repercussions of the wet sort. He knew exactly where her bedroom window was and he was fairly sure that the water hose would go to that side of the house.

"Sadly, I never learned to bake an "ow," though I will be more than happy to show you that I know how to _serve_ one."

"I hate you so much..."

Oh, she had no doubts about that. His hatred was what fueled her on those dismal days when nothing was on television. There really was nothing like calling Seifer and telling him that someone had keyed the fancy finish on his motorcycle at three am to make one feel alive.

"Yes, and like this cereal you despise so much, you keep coming back for more."

He was pretty sure that she was smiling. What reason did she have to smile? Had she eaten a puppy while his eyes were watering from her sucker punch?

"I was hungry, you evil cereal hag."

"And you come here to eat my food."

He stopped shoveling cereal into his mouth long enough to mutter, "I think they feed this shit to horses. Don't you have any Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs?"

"Now _that _shit is disgusting."

"No, it has 14 vitamins and minerals. Says so right on the box. I've read every one."

Of course he had read them. He also collected the toys, ever since they had started packaging those toxic lumps with plastic gunblades. The Breakfast Battle of '87 was one of the few things that made Squall smile, as he had been the one to get up earlier that day and beat Seifer to the kitchen.

Blows had been exchanged.

Kicks had been exchanged.

Words had also been exchanged, foul curses that both boys knew would have them grounded, but pride was pride and a glow-in-the-dark gunblade was a glow-in-the-dark gunblade. Their taunts only seemed tame when Selphie heard the commotion and began commenting on the brawl from the sidelines. Matron still refused to buy cereal.

Quistis looked at the box in her hand. Whole grains, rolled oats, cinnamon, brown sugar. All very healthy and very delicious. She wondered at the ingredients she might find in Seifer's favorite cereal, if they might have found a way to radiate sugar and pass it through a particle accelerator. She had eaten it. Once. The effect was similar to cocaine and sunshine and an electric cat chasing after a laser pointer, if Selphie's account of her behavior was to be believed. Quistis had sworn to never eat it again.

"It also comes with tooth decay, which is what you'll find yourself with if you don't pull that spoon from your mouth."

"Thought you said it was healthy."

"It is. I'm talking about a more sudden form of tooth decay."

"Such violence. And they let you teach children?"

The box was empty. Sigh. It really hadn't been all _that_ bad, not that he was ever going to tell her that. Not quite as good as bacon and eggs, but certainly not as bad as that stuff he had in his apartment. _That_ stuff was green, which would have been okay if it had been lettuce, but he was fairly sure that it had been bread at one point in a past life, and he wasn't keen on experimenting that morning.

Seifer tossed the bowl into the sink and burped.

"You're not even going to do the dishes?"

"Nope. That's for the women to...OW! Okay, okay! I'll wash it when I come by this afternoon! Damn! How much do you bench press anyway?"

She hadn't hit him all that hard. Just with her knuckle. In that squishy part between his neck and clavicle. It wouldn't even leave a bruise.

"Will you get out of here?"

"Fine, fine. I'm going."

"And you're buying me more cereal. You ate the entire box."

* * *

A/N: Bonus point if you get the Calvin and Hobbes reference.


End file.
